


Weekend Breakfast With Daddy

by CassieRaven



Series: Raising Abigail Graham-Lecter [1]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: AU, Abby gets Will and Hannibal as her new parents, Abigail's Adopted at an earlier age as a child, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe – Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe – Modern Setting, Alternate take on Seasons 1 through 3, Beverly is the greatest Aunt Bev ever, Buster and Winston are Abigail's favorite go to dogs/puppies, Buster and Winston love their Daddy Hannibal and little Sister Abby, Canon, Child Abigail, Family, Family Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Hannibal hasn't retired from cannibalism, Hannibal is semi-retired secretly the Ripper, Humor, Jack Crawford is not Abigail's favorite Uncle, Kid Abigail, M/M, Marriage, Murder Family, Murder Husbands, Protective Dads Hannibal and Will, Raising Abigail isn't easy for the Murder Husbands, Some Out of Character, The Life in the Murder Family the Graham-Lecters, Will Retires early from the FBI as a Profiler, Will and Hannibal Adopt Abigail, Will and Hannibal as Adoptive Dads, Will knows about Hannibal being the Ripper, Will's Dog Pack are apart of the Murder Family life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-24 21:00:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,316
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20020951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieRaven/pseuds/CassieRaven
Summary: While Papa Hannibal's away, Daddy Will takes over the traditional weekend Breakfast routine and changing the menu to his and little Abby's delight.





	Weekend Breakfast With Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Good evening to all of my Hannibal readers and fans, I hope everyone is well.
> 
> I bring you a brand new story that will be apart of a series I have been working on writing for quite some time. This series, “Raising Abby” will be of various stories set in an Alternate Universe take on Season One where Will and Hannibal are both together happily (as loving married murder husbands) and raising a younger child-aged Abigail Hobbs.
> 
> I had so much fun planning, plotting and writing this first one and other stories in this series. It was such a blast. Also, major kudos and thanks to my fellow authors, fellow Fannibals APastandFutureNerd and Annabelle Fannibal who beta-read over this story. Thank you both so much, ladies! I greatly appreciate you both for taking the time to look over my story as beta-readers; thanks for giving me such great advice and feedback.
> 
> Enjoy reading this new story in the new series everybody.

* * *

  
**Writing Prompt:** Breakfast is the most important meal of the day, Parent and Child Bonding, Cracked Eggs.

  
**Title:** “Weekend Breakfast With Daddy”

* * *

"Morning, Daddy, what's for breakfast this morning?" little Abigail asked, yawning, wearing her usual pajamas of Care Bears and rainbow socks on her feet as she entered the kitchen with Buster and Winston trailing behind her faithfully.

"Good morning Abby, I see these two mischief makers still choose to sleep with you at night rather than with your Papa and I anymore in our bed. Your Papa's been glad about that," her father Will smiled with a chuckle, taking in the sight of his daughter and their dynamic duo of their dog pack of ten, moving from the open kitchen's island counter to properly give his daughter a hug and kiss on her cheek as he scooped her up into his arms.

"I'm their favorite like Papa says, I like that Buster and Winston keep me company at night in my room. They keep the bad dreams and the boogeyman away as you and Papa do. Besides, all the other doggies always sleep by yours and Papa's bed all the time at night." Abigail argued, smiling wide as her teeth showed.

"Fair enough. I personally think that they see you as their favorite like they do your Papa because you both spoil them with human food and table scraps when they don't think I'm looking. How'd you sleep last night, good?" Will asked her as he carried her further into the kitchen before setting her down as he moved to start filling the last two dog bowls on the floor in the corner with homemade dog food for Winston and Buster.

"I slept well. I had no bad dreams. Where are all the others?" Abigail answered, looking around for the rest of their family pack with four paws and tails.

"Outside in the backyard running off their regular routine morning breakfast. You with Buster and Winston decided to sleep in a little later this Saturday morning, so it's a late breakfast for you three. Come on boys, time to eat." Will whistled for the dogs as they immediately ran past Abigail and him making a beeline for their food bowls at the end of the line of ceramic pet bowls that had each dog's name beautifully lettered.

"It's the weekend, we're supposed to sleep in...did you eat already, Daddy?" Abigail asked, yawning.

"No, I haven't eaten yet, I decided to wait for you so we could have a late breakfast together even if it's not yet noon. What do you want for breakfast, Abby?" Will asked as he went into the fridge to look around at what they had stocked.

"Hmm...I don't feel like oatmeal or pancakes. It doesn't feel like a waffles day either." Abigail shrugged.

"I agree with you on that. Want me to make some omelets like Papa does or do you want me to make something new that's a first for you? It's something that my Dad would make for me that's a little odd but tastes great with a side of bacon." Will suggested, grinning as he saw his daughter's eyes lit up at the words 'new'.

"Omelettes aren't the same without Papa making them when he isn't here. What would your Dad make for you?" she asked looking curious.

"When we could afford it with some eggs and decent slices of sliced bread with the right sweet spices, my Dad, your Grandpa Graham, would make me special French toast with eggs cooked in the center of them. They are usually cooked with just plain slices of bread with butter that they call egg in a basket or egg-in-a-hole." Will explained as he went to one of the shelves underneath the island stove counter to grab a simple frying skillet pan.

"That sounds good. Can we have French toast with the eggs in them?" Abigail asked, looking excited about it as her father nodded.

"All right then, it's settled. We'll have that for a late breakfast. We'll even use that maple syrup the expensive kind that your Papa has stashed away in the pantry closet reserved for special occasions for his homemade waffles and crepes. We just won't tell him." Will agreed.

"Mm, sounds yummy. When's Papa going to come home from Alaska with Auntie Bev, Uncle Jimmy, and Uncle Brian?" Abigail inquired curiously, looking around the room finding it different from her Papa in there with them in his favorite place, cooking or baking in their kitchen.

"I don't know baby, I talked to Papa last night on Facebook time on my phone. He said he's still helping Uncle Jack consult on the cases out there. Hopefully, once he's done solving that case with your Aunt and Uncles helping Uncle Jack solve that snowman serial killer case out there, he can come back home to us very soon." Will answered her as she looked thrilled about hearing news about her other parent.

"How's Papa doing in Alaska with the cold weather and all the snow? It snows there as it does here in Wolf Trap, right Daddy?" Abigail questioned, looking excited.

"It's snowing there, he said, but Papa says he's doing fine...he just doesn't care for the cold or the fast-food eatery choices he's had to put up with from your Aunt Beverly dragging him into when they aren't staying in their motel rooms when they aren't around crime scene spots in Anchorage. Aunt Beverly made him eat Taco Bell." Will shared with an amused voice and a smirk.

"No way! Auntie Bevy got Papa to eat Taco Bell! Did he like it or did he hate it?" Abigail asked excitedly with a giggle in her voice.

"Your Papa as he said 'detested it' but ate the bean and cheese burrito and Doritos taco combo that Aunt Bev had ordered and personally delivered herself to his motel room. That's what he gets for not planning ahead of time to pack to go meals from home with him when he thought it'd only be a twenty-four-hour case trip." Will snickered as he had been amused by his husband's complaints and disgust at how much hell he was suffering in Alaska.

"Poor Papa, bet he misses us, the doggies, and this kitchen now." Abigail nodded, feeling a bit of pity for her dear Papa.

"He definitely does miss us, Papa said to give you his love and that he misses you very much...and to make sure you eat everything off your plate from the premade meals he left for us both, and to remember to brush and floss your teeth every morning and night." Will grinned, recalling how Hannibal hadn't hesitated to question him if their 'little mongoose was making sure she was sticking to the regular daily schedule of teeth care, her simple chores, and eating healthy'.

"Papa being Papa, a worry-wart like Auntie Alana says. I can't wait for him to come home. I miss our story times at night when he reads to me." Abigail mused happily.

"So do I, Abby. He'll be back in no time, hopefully, if they can finish with that case out there." Will agreed.

"Hey, Daddy, why do you and Papa sleep in your bed in the living den and not upstairs in your big bedroom next to my room?" Abigail suddenly asked, sounding curious, changing the subject.

"Well, you remember when I had a little eh...panic attack that time when we got stuck in the elevator after your doctor's appointment for a regular monthly check-up? When you were five and it being before Papa had to have you stay for a few days with Aunt Alana and Aunt Margot when we had to with Papa explain it all to you before I had that special surgery?" Will asked her, looking over her as she stood there while he fetched the carton of organic large brown eggs, cream, and milk from the refrigerator.

"Mm-hmm, you mean when you had... an 'episode' like other times. Like when Papa had to hug you really tight and talk really quiet to you to make you feel okay again? I remember ‘cause you were sick with something messing with your brain, and Papa said it was called en-cephie something. And doctors had to do surgery in your head to make your brain and you all okay again. So you wouldn't have headaches, episodes, or sleepwalk in weird places at night anymore." Abigail answered, remembering it all like it was yesterday.

"That's right, what I had that was making my mind really sick and confused was called encephalitis. But sometimes even though I'm all better...I can't sleep okay in mine and Papa's bedroom because it still feels like a small place for me. I still have problems sometimes with small places and spaces, so that's why Papa and I still sleep in the living room with all the dogs. It's what we call a comforting place or comfort zone for me to sleep at. Understand, Abby?" Will questioned her softly, even though he knew very well that she could, in fact, understand everything he was explaining to her...being a child quite intelligent beyond other kids in her peer group.

"I understand. Your room looks nice as Papa's extra office space with his one fancy couch in it." Abigail answered with her happy loving smile as always.

"I think it looks nice too. Can you get me some cookie cutters from the cookie-cutter container on the shelf by the dry baking ingredients in the pantry please, Abby?" Will asked her.

"On it, Daddy, come on Buster, come help me." Abby saluted with her hand and motioned for the jack terrier mix dog to follow her, which he did with a happy bark and wagging his tail to his youngest master.

_'Maybe it was a positive idea when Hannibal suggested that we update this kitchen with a similar kitchen layout and island-stove counter like how his kitchen in his house used to be when we discussed making some renovations here and there before he moved in with me here before we eloped on impulse. At least we got it all done before Abby had come into our lives'_ , Will thought silently to himself, nodding as he looked around his house's kitchen that held touches of Hannibal's kitchen design tastes.

The old sink, stove, and refrigerator that used to be there once were all gone and replaced with better updated models thanks to Hannibal's insistence at wanting a better kitchen to work in. Will had agreed to it as long as his lover-partner had agreed to the compromising of letting him keep his beloved microwave. Hannibal, despite his shuddering and disgust at the cooking appliance, had agreed...as long as the black box of doom was kept out of sight and out of his kitchen. (Will's microwave was confided to spending its remaining days in a lower shelf somewhere in a box in the garage's storage area.) There were many compromises the two had made when agreeing to move in together in Will's home in Wolf Trap to officially living in their domesticity while wanting to make their relationship and marriage work. There was sleeping with their bed in the living room, something that the once surgeon, now-psychiatrist could live with.

The whole issue with sharing their home with Will's dog pack family had been doable as well for Hannibal, much to Will's surprise. Will had agreed to Hannibal bringing in his harpsichord and a smaller sized, expensive, top-of-the-line piano into the living room, besides the new furniture. (As long as Will had gotten to keep his favorite comfortable armchair and corner of the living room for his fishing lure projects and his little writing space corner tables.) Their lives together with the dogs, with routines of their day jobs and working with the FBI solving crimes was perfect and had felt complete...at least that's what Will had assumed.

Until the case concerning a serial killer named Garret Jacobs Hobbs who had slain a long line of teenage girls had fallen into their lap. And in the aftermath of Will and Hannibal having to find and confront the man at his home, Will having to fire off his gun to put an end to Hobbs after being too late in seconds to save the wife Louise Hobbs when Garret had slit her throat in the kitchen. Despite the disappointment as having failed to save one life, Will had been relieved but shocked that one life was saved that day when Hannibal had moved closer into the kitchen to finding hiding in a corner, the Hobbs' three-year-old daughter, holding tightly to her throat, little hands bleeding red. The child had clutched to both of the men while they waited for backup and an ambulance to arrive; clinging tightly in Hannibal's arms, her fingers curled up in Will's hand while he tried applying a towel with pressure to the wound on her neck to stop the bleeding.

_'Maybe it was fate or some sort of destiny...us being able to keep her alive until help could arrive to fix the knife wound to her throat and keep her calm, Hannibal and I finding her and forming a connection between the three of us. How excited and protective she felt with us in her presence when we would visit her in the hospital. How safe she felt among us, talking to us when she could speak after her throat healed from the stitches....she had a bond with us and still wanted us even after everything that happened to her. We became her new family, her new Fathers’_ , Will thought to himself, remembering how attached Abigail just three years prior had developed an attachment to them, her heroes who had rescued her from her dangerous big bad wolf of an overbearing, over loving, possessive father who had taken away her mother whom she had loved.

With discussions he had with Hannibal, as well as conversations with Alana Bloom who had been looking after the little girl in therapy sessions and having talks with her about everything; it was officially agreed. (Along with legal channels concerning everyone involved with the case and with children's social services that the best place for Abigail Hobbs with the child's interest at heart would be fostered by the people she had a positive connection with.)  
It would be with her rescuers, her new foster and later made legalized by paperwork and the courts, adopted parents Will Graham-Lecter and Dr. Hannibal Lecter.

"Daddy, I got the cookie cutters from the pantry closet. I got you the dog-shaped one and me a heart." Abigail called out to Will, breaking his visit down memory lane in his mind place as he looked down to his right, seeing her, holding to silver metal cookie cutters in her hands.

"Good job. Here, climb up on the stepping stool, ready to assist?" Will smiled as the dark-haired brunette little girl nodded, her teeth shining in her smile.

"What do we need to do?" she asked as she deposited the bowls around the ingredients on the counter.

"First, we have to slice up of some of the leftover brioche bread loaves that Papa made fresh on Thursday. Good thing I found some of this in the bread box next to the counter by the fridge. We've got to slice them into slices like toast." Will explained as he started to slice a loaf of bread with a simple bread knife.

"Okay. Mm, I love this kind of bread." Abigail sighed happily, looking to the bread slices with hungry delight.

"Me too kiddo, I guess your Papa didn't use it all up when he made that fancy French bread pudding with all those berries from that dinner party we had earlier last week. Let's have two slices each for the two of us."

"Perfect Daddy! Then what do we do?" Abigail asked with her full attention on Will's directions.

"Now, I'm going to put a little bit of butter into the pan to fry it up after I've turned on the stove burner here. Then we take this mixing bowl here and mix up the wet ingredients of some milk, a little bit of cream with a couple of teaspoons of sugar and cinnamon-like so," Will explained as he started mixing the ingredients together for French toast wet batter up.

"What about the eggs?" Abigail questioned curiously, motioning to the carton of eggs.

"Want to help me with cracking them into the mixing?" Will asked her as he opened the egg carton, handing her a brown egg.

"Okay, so I crack it like this?" Abigail asked as she with two hands cracked the egg on to the side of the metal mixing bowl as the egg crack, letting shell pieces with the egg fall into the bowl.

"Exactly like that, good job Abby. Let's just remove some of these little eggshell pieces from the bowl. We don't want these in our French toast slices," the empathetic and retired-profiler both praised and chuckled at the child, as he dipped his clean hands into the bowl to remove the eggshells.

"Sorry I spilled shells in it." Abigail blushed looking apologetic by his side.

"It's alright Abby, accidents happen. I used to leave bigger pieces of eggshells in the pancake mix or instant boxed cake mix when I tried making pancakes or cakes in trying to semi-homemade bake. That was a long time ago when I was single and really a decent cook." Will assured Abigail while musing at his past failed attempts at easy baking when he was in college and his time in the New Orleans police academy.

"Bet Papa never did that when he learned how to bake and cook. He never makes mistakes or spills. Auntie Alana says he could never burn a cake or tray of cupcakes." Abigail giggled.

"Doubtful your Papa would ever make a mistake in this kitchen when he's in his personal space and element zone. Now that we've got the eggshells removed, we've got to take the whisk and whisk everything together. There, done. For the next step, we take these cookie cutters and make holes out of their shapes into the slices of bread before we put the bread slices into the batter and then one at a time, put them inside the frying pan to cook,” Will mused.

"Then what?" Abigail asked.

"Then when they've cooked for a few minutes, we crack an egg into the empty space of the french toast to cook. It'll be done when the egg inside the french toast stops making little bubbles crinkling." Will answered her with a loving voice and smile.

* * *

Abigail Graham-Lecter had watched from where she stood on her step stool from a safe distance as each piece of battered french toast slice with an egg in its center grilled up into the frying pan. Watching the pan grill breakfast under the hands of her father, Will Graham-Lecter.

While she always on weekends and days off from school during holidays was her Papa's assistant chef in the kitchen, there were rarely times when she was solely her Daddy's personal assistant cook when it was just the two of them by themselves.  
Usually, when it was her helping her Papa make breakfast, it would be fruit jam stuffed crepes with sugar on top, bacon and cheese-spinach stuffed egg omelets, Belgian waffles with fine chopped pecans and berries in them and served with a side of sausage and fried eggs. It was always magical how her Papa could create soups, wild salads with grated goat cheese and fresh Italian ham, meat vegetable stews, or sandwiches look very 'super-fancy' as her Aunt Beverly would say.

“It’s smelling really good Daddy. I like the smell of vanilla and cinnamon best.” Abigail smiled, watching the French toast slice grill and slightly bubble up the egg wash batter into grilled bubbles.

“That is the power of liquid flavors and spices, it can make the simplest things like cheap wonder bread slices or more expensive bread into something delicious to be a meal.” Will mused grinning before flipping the toast over with his flat spatula into the pan.

“Mm hmm. What's Wonder bread? Is that what Papa would say is 'something we shall never purchase' when we go grocery shopping at the grocery marts and farmer's market?” Abigail asked, pondering the unknown sandwich bread.

“Unfortunately, yes...it's a type of sliced sandwich bread that your Papa would complain and just have a...as some would say a bread hissyfit-snooty reaction to if I ever tried bringing home loaf bag of it home. It's a simple American brand of sliced bread most people buy who don't want to make their own bread from scratch or buy better quality or expensive breads to cook with or make sandwiches with Abby.” Will explained, as he handed her an egg as she took it.

“A 'commoner's' bread like Papa would say...he taught me that word before when we went grocery shopping and said he didn't want to buy the hot dogs in plastic things in the meat sandwich area by the sliced cheeses. Did you grow up on sliced bread like Wonder bread when you were a kid like me?” Abigail asked innocently, while her little hands softly cracked the egg gently against the counter as she brought it over to the pan, letting the egg fall from the eggshells and into the heart shaped holed French toast.

“Good job Abby, it's perfectly in the toast's hole. Yes, I did grow up on similar sliced bread like Wonder bread. Grandpa Graham and I were what most people would call very poor when I was a child in the south in Louisiana. Most of the times when Grandpa could afford to feed us with his earnings or whatever we could get from food banks or church charities, we mostly got store brand sliced breads. When I could get a sandwich or grilled stuffed sandwich with sliced cheese, cheap sliced ham or turkey, or leftover fish we'd catch with Wonder bread...it was a treat, a really special treat when we could afford it on sale bread deals in stores or food banks for free.” Will answered her honestly, with a smile that had a little sadness as he remembered the hard times with food during his childhood with his alcoholic father.

“It must have been great and tasted delicious if it was a special treat you got Daddy. And I bet you're happy now that you make more money now with teaching and writing your books to be able to buy all the Wonder bread you want. That's good, right?” Abigail mused in her question with a shine in her bright eyes, a smile on her lips.

“That's very true kiddo, it definitely was a special treat that I loved getting when I could. I'm glad I get to indulge in it when I can buy it for myself sometimes...that's why I'm glad I bought some yesterday at the store and hid it in the freezer in the pantry basement Papa made two years ago...” Will smirked with a chuckle.

“We don't tell Papa you've got a bag of bread, right Daddy?” Abigail grinned back at him as they watched the egg cook in the french toast.

“Right, Abby. Your slice of egg in a French toast basket looks ready to plate. After I plate yours, I'll make mine with the dog shaped hole before I grill up the bacon.” Will smiled, as he motioned for Abigail to get her plate nearby on the stove's counter.

“Awesome! Papa's homemade bacon makes everything taste better. Too bad he isn't here with us to enjoy our breakfast we made.” Abigail nodded in agreement, handing Will her plate.

“I have to agree. It's just not the same having breakfast without him here with us cooking and joining us to eat. Tell you what Abby, why don't we after I finish making my egg toast and bacon that I Skype video call up Papa so he can chat with us while we have breakfast,” Will suggested as he was plating up Abigail's food, “What do you think?”

“Yes! Call Papa up, Daddy! He can join us for breakfast and have whatever it is he's eating late night wise or morning or afternoon up in Alaska! We can surprise him, he'll love to see us.” Abigail fully agreed with cheerfulness in her voice as she took her plate to place at their dining room table before moving her chair to sit right next to her Daddy's chair's side on the left side of her Papa's chair at the end of the table.

Abigail couldn't wait for her side strips of homemade pepper sweet bacon to arrive and for her with her Daddy to surprise Skype phone call with her Papa. The five-year-old girl watched as her furry best friends finished eating and drinking from their food and water bowls nearby. Buster trotted back to where his doggy bed was in the sea of pet beds in the living room, no doubt to relax his well-fed stomach.  
Winston however Abby noticed after he stretched went directly over to where she was seated wagging his tail happily to her.

“Hi Winston. Looks like you had a yummy brunch Daddy fixed you and Buster up. Want to sit here and keep me company until Daddy's done frying up the bacon?” she cooed softly to the old mutt-mixed golden-brown retriever as he leaned into her hand as his youngest owner started to scratch him behind his ears lovingly.

  
It was a good late started Saturday in the Graham-Lecter house in Wolf Trap for it's human and canine residents.

* * *

**The End**

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoyed reading this first of other various stories in the series of the lives of Will and Hannibal raising child Abigail.  
> Let me know what you thought, constructive criticism and kind reviews/comments are always welcomed.  
> Rude comments/reviews or flame reviews will be ignored or passed on to Hannibal so he can stalk and eat the rude.


End file.
